


A Big Wedding

by CanadianHogwarts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Sad Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8711236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianHogwarts/pseuds/CanadianHogwarts
Summary: She's always wanted a big wedding. The huge white dress. The long veil. The echoing church. Too many flowers. A band. Dancing. Little favours shaped like lilies, even though she hates the damn things.





	

She's always wanted a big wedding. The huge white dress. The long veil. The echoing church. Too many flowers. A band. Dancing. Little favours shaped like lilies, even though she hates the damn things. She's always wanted a big wedding.

She gets married first, of course. Their dad cries when Petunia shows him the ring. He brings out the photos from his own wedding, apologizes for not keeping their mum's old dress. Petunia smiles. When he mentions that she should write to her sister at school, she lies and says she will.

She has to scrimp and save, count every penny and lie to Vernon when he asks if that's the same coat she was wearing last winter. Their dad pays for some of it, of course. _I wish it was more, love._ He tells her as they leave the bank. _I have to put aside some for your sister too. I can do other things. Run errands. Taste cakes._ She nods and smiles as she thinks of her sister getting a big wedding too.

She's always out of place with Vernon's family. They're the sort that's grown up with money, and she's the kind of girl who grew up in a miner's house in Spinners End. Not the same world, really. Vernon's sister Marge makes not-so-subtle comments about her shoes and her hair the whole drive to the dressmaker's. She stops when she sees Petunia in the dress though, and for the first time, Petunia feels like she's one-upped the annoying woman. She returns to the changing room and looks at herself in the mirror, all white lace and shimmering skirt and poofy sleeves, and she wishes that her mother was there. And maybe someone else as well. But only for a second.

She holds the shower on the twenty-eighth of April. Her sister sends a her a card and a present, the normal way. Petunia wonders how she did that. The present isn't from the registry. It's just a bouquet of pressed flowers in a pretty frame. Throughly useless. Totally generic. Completely normal. She shoves it in the bottom of the drawer she uses for her winter clothes. There's a message on the card.

_Dear Tuney, Congratulations! I'm sorry I couldn't attend the party. Best wishes to both of you. Love, your sister._

There's signature scrawled at the bottom, loopy and large filling up the large empty space left for meaningful messages. The card doesn't sing or spray confetti like the ones her sister got at Christmas. It's just normal. Petunia shoves that in the drawer too.

Everything is prepared. The dress hangs on the back of her wardrobe, the cake is in the pantry, her makeup lies ready on her bureau. She hears her sister in the other room, crying softly. It's irritating. This is Petunia's day to be happy, and she won't have one of her (forced) bridesmaids with puffy eyes, no matter what's in that silly paper with the pictures that move like films.

Her sister brings a date. Her stupid, rude boyfriend. Petunia spots her talking to him before they make their way into the church. He's all lanky limbs and scruffy hair, wearing a dark suit that almost fits properly and a slightly uncomfortable expression. She's angry with her sister for bringing him, for ruining the prettiness of her day just a little bit. Then she sees them smile at each other, bright, blinding, beautiful, and she realizes that this boy isn't someone her sister brought just to make her angry. She looks away.

Vernon beams at her as her father walks her down the aisle, and Petunia thinks she's the happiest she could ever be.

The boy, Potter, comes up to her during the reception. There's no one around her for a brief moment, and she was enjoying the quiet, and then there he is, and she never realized how tall he was before now. He smiles at her stiffly.

_Congratulations_. He tells her, fiddling with his fingers. She nods, bewildered.

_Thank you_ , she says, searching for Vernon over the boy's shoulder. Potter notices.

_Don't worry_ , he tells her, and she hears a trickle of coldness in his voice. _I won't contaminate you with what I am. I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay. I know you and Dursley don't care for me, but it meant a lot to her that I was here. So thank you._ She nods again, confusion boiling in her stomach, with a bit of guilt too. _I'll go soon, he tells her,_ stuffing his hands in his pockets. She follows his gaze and sees her sister talking to Marge with a look of forced politeness plastered on her face. She looks back at Potter. He's smiling a stupid, in-love smile.

_You don't have to leave_ , she tells him spontaneously. He turns to her, surprised. _You can stay, if you'd like. She'd appreciate it, I'm sure_. She sees Vernon at last, and begins to walk towards him, but Potter stops her.

_You mean it?_ He asks her, and she realizes that he wants her approval. She sighs.

_Keep her out of trouble,_ she tells him. She looks straight into his eyes for the first time that night, possibly ever, and hopes he understands that she means this for more than just that night. He nods.

_I will,_ he tells her. 

Lily has a small wedding. Petunia doesn't attend.


End file.
